


Bigger Worries

by dhwty_writes



Series: Geraskier One-Shots [18]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Tumblr Prompt, geralt is the sad one here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29252160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: After the mountain, Geralt spends his days drinking and playing Gwent. Until Jaskier finds him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier One-Shots [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931821
Comments: 17
Kudos: 136





	Bigger Worries

**Author's Note:**

> captainmaxatx asked for: Geralt playing gwent in a tavern post mountain and remembering a time before Jaskier when that was never possible and realizing how much Jaskier changed his life for the better. Then he gets all sad because he told his best friend to fuck off. 
> 
> This got a bit dark and sad, I don’t know what happened. Have fun regardless!

Geralt had scaled a mountain to slay a dragon with a sorceress, a bard, and a handful of other unimportant people. He descended again a few days later, the dragon alive, without the sorceress, bard, _et al_. Instead, he had acquired a serving of deep regret.

He had known how stupid his words had been, even as he’d said them. Most of his words were. But the extent of his idiocy only hit him when he had found Roach alone, her saddle bags as empty as they hadn’t been in twenty years, with no bard in sight. Only then had he realised that Jaskier was gone. For good.

So, Geralt had done the obvious thing: gone to the nearest tavern and gotten spectacularly drunk. And once he had passed out and woken with a hangover, he had sought out the next one. He had repeated that process a couple of times by now, drinking and playing Gwent to pay for his drinks.

Before Jaskier, this had been unimaginable. No witcher could just keep getting drunk and playing Gwent. Especially not the Butcher of Blaviken. And yet, here he was. Reaping the benefits of the bard’s incessant singing, with the man responsible nowhere in sight.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered as his victorious opponent snatched the coin purse off the table. “Who’s nex’?” he slurred, looking around.

“Hey, you arsehole,” a familiar voice said as a blurry body slid into the chair across from him. It was bright and colourful and awfully familiar.

“J’skier?” he slurred.

“Melitele’s tits,” the bard babbled and leaned closer, slowly coming into focus, “Geralt, are you drunk? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before. How much did it take you to become this pissed? Half the tavern’s vodka, I’ll wager.”

“What’re y’doin’ here?”

“Looking for you, obviously. What are you doing here?”

He looked slightly disoriented at his empty tankard. “Getting’ drunk.”

“Well, that much is obvious.” He perked up and waved his hand. “Could I get some water, please?” he shouted.

A moment later, a large pitcher was put down in front of him. Jaskier filled his tankard and thrust it into his hand. “Drink,” he ordered. “It will do you some good.”

Geralt obeyed without question and downed the tankard. He felt a little better after that. And a little nauseous. “I’m s’rry,” he mumbled.

Evidently, he had interrupted Jaskier’s babbling. “What?” the bard asked.

“I’m—sorry,” he said again, carefully pronouncing every syllable. “F’r the mountain.”

Jaskier waved his hand dismissively. “Water under the bridge, Geralt, there’s more important things to worry about.”

“Hm?” What could be more important that apologising to Jaskier right now?

“There’s a war,” Jaskier said as if that explained anything. “Cintra fell.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath. “Fiona? Come over here.” A girl appeared at Jaskier’s side, with wide eyes and pale hair, too thin and frightened for her age. “There is a war, Geralt,” Jaskier said imploringly. “Cintra fell. There are more important things to worry about.”

The words barely reached him; he was too preoccupied with staring at the girl. But even through the haze of his inebriated mind, he understood the gravity of the words.

“Hello,” Cirilla of Cintra said.

“Fuck,” Geralt of Rivia replied. 

**Author's Note:**

> I realise this is not a one shot, this is the beginning of an entire AU. If anyone wants to take this and run with it, feel free to!  
> As always, leave a comment and a kudo or come over to chat with me on [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/) if you liked it!


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